If there was a miserable contest....

I'd win.

Sure, as if having to pack up, haul, unload, set-up, play, deconstruct, re-load, haul back, and unload the Virginia Faire this weekend (down to Roanoke for a one weekend engagement...and we'd better make some freaking money or I will be livid...) wasn't enough cause for misery. (Oh, it's a fun, relaxed show in a beee-you-ti-ful location, but setting up and striking...not so much)

But I'm sick as a dog -- the snot fairy had taken up residence in my sinuses (which are THROBBING....THROBBING...in a way that would be very exciting were it another body part) and has invited her in-laws to move into my lungs where they appear to be scraping bits off the walls and throwing them around. All I want to do is crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and not come out until Sunday.

Okay, some of us know I get claustrophobic if there's any kind of fabric over my face and I can't go more than a few hours without peeing, but you get my drift here.

But noooooo, I gotta go down and do the show, feeling like crap.

And it gets worse... ( warning, TMI for the squeamish... )